Employment
by Makou
Summary: Shortly after that ugly business with the Octavo, Rincewind finds himself in The Mended Drum feeling sorry for himself. He isn't the only one.


Notes: The Discworld, Rincewind, the Librarian and everything else mentioned in this story belongs to Terry Pratchett.  
**   


Employment

  
  


By Makou

  
**   
Well, that was that.  
Re-enrolling... hadn't gone well for Rincewind. The vacant spaces at the top of the heap had been quickly filled by wizards who, regrettably, remembered clearly the other, much more previous incident with the Octavo. This in itself was not too awful, were it not for the fact that the new top nobs maintained that his previous expulsion from the university was still in effect. Never mind that he had just saved the disc from crashing into a giant red star.  
He had mentioned the last point to them. They remarked that none of their lot had been there, so who was to tell? The problem could have very well fixed itself, for all they knew. This was a load of toff as far as Rincewind was concerned, but then, the prospect of owing their lives to him of all people was probably too terrifying to be contemplated.  
So what to do now? There was always the old stand-by of translating, which he had made a tolerable living at before Twoflower hopped off the boat with the Luggage. The only problem with that was, well... He wouldn't be a wizard.  
All right, so technically speaking, he wasn't a wizard now. Or rather, he was, but some complete bastards over at the university didn't think he was and inexplicably, that counted for a lot.  
At least he had his beer.  
Over the course of his journeys, Rincewind hadn't had a lot in the way of alcohol. There was no time for getting inebriated in between alternately running for his life and making sure Twoflower didn't part with his. As such, he thought it would be a mighty fine idea to catch up for lost time. So far, he had drank, or rather ate, around a decade's worth.  
"Ook," said a rather primatish voice over the general noise of The Mended Drum.  
It was the Librarian. Or at least, Rincewind had been told that it was the Librarian. Poor old Mr. Worblehat. Although he looked more peeved that he couldn't get a drink than anything else...  
The barkeep looked puzzled. Apparently, he had never had an orangutan in his bar before.  
"Er," he said. "Have you lost your ow-"  
"Ook," said the Librarian, slowly, in accordance with the age old belief that if you talk really slowly and treat the foreigner like a child, the language barriers will magically disappear. "Ook ook eek!" He then mimed the action of drinking, using someone else's stein. Fortunately, it was empty, so no one much minded.  
"What? You want a banana or something?"  
"Eek!"  
Ah, well, thought Rincewind. He would probably be stuck as a translator regardless... He scraped in his stein for the last precious leavings of genuine Ankh-Morpork beer, chewed his findings thoroughly and then did what he promised himself he would never, ever do again. He intervened.  
He coughed. "May I be of assistance?" It was a good opening line, or at least, not a bad one.  
The barkeep eyed Rincewind warily. There had been an incident with him a few hours ago involving 'that damned box on legs'. He had the splatters keep Rincewind out until the wizard convinced the Luggage to hide behind the corner for a bit. But it didn't look as if that... thing was anywhere nearby now, so...  
"Unless you can get this damned monkey out of here, you can sod o-" The barkeep would have continued, had not the Librarian gripped him in such a way that the tearing off of arms was not outside the realm of possibilities.  
"Eek!" said the Librarian. And Rincewind could understand him. He said, "Ape!" It was all body language and inflection, really. Nothing to it at all. It wasn't half as difficult as Agatean, that was for damned sure.  
"Er, I think you'd better apologize," said Rincewind.  
The barkeep looked as if he were about to argue, but a tightening grip on his arm told him that wasn't the wisest thing to do.  
"Sorry," he mumbled. The Librarian let go, albeit unwillingly. It seemed he almost regretted not inflicting serious bodily harm on the human.  
"Ook ook," said the Librarian unto Rincewind.  
"He'll have a beer," said Rincewind.  
"Ook."  
"And a bowl of peanuts."  
"Ook."  
"And an umbrella in the beer, if you don't mind."  
"Rrrrright, then," said the barkeep. "Five dollars."  
"Ooook," said the Librarian. He was grinning. Seeing an orangutan grin was not a calming experience. If anything, it took the barkeep back to the days when humans were forced to rain coconuts down on their enemies for survival.  
"Right, right, I'll put it on your tab..."  
Some minutes later, Rincewind and the Librarian were sitting at a table, drinking their beers.  
"Ook," said the Librarian. Rincewind reckoned it be an expression of gratitude.  
"Don't mention it," said Rincewind.  
They drank some more. The Librarian even offered Rincewind some peanuts.  
"Oook..." You know...  
Rincewind picked something unnameable out of his beer. "What is it?" he asked, as he flung the something-or-another into the distance.  
"Ook eek ook ook..."  
Well, that was something Rincewind didn't expect.  
"You're offering me a job?"  
"Ook. Ook."  
Rincewind rubbed his sad excuse for a beard in contemplation. "Your assistant? That doesn't sound too bad..." It wouldn't at all. Homicidal literature aside, he'd be working for the university. Meaning that he might, just might get away with calling himself a wizard.  
"All right," said Rincewind. "I accept. When do I start?"  
He started the next morning with banana fetching. He felt he was rather good at it.  
  
More Notes: It should be noted that this is my first real attempt at a Discworld fanfic. Thus, nitpicks are welcome. I was originally going to do a biography of Rincewind, but due to my distressing tendency to leave my longer works unfinished, I decided that I should at least write a short story or two first to get my feet wet. Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it.  



End file.
